Sunday with Imayoshi
by Midorima Kazunari
Summary: The have a routine every Sunday...


A/N: This is a gift to Nephellim for her support of **Partners With Priorities** and **Gentlemen, Place Your Bets**. I initially didn't think I could write the ship she suggested, but I had fun with it, so I may continue this as I have time. I'm not sure...

* * *

It started out like every other weekend... Imayoshi took the train from Tokyo to Osaka Saturday night after practice and used the four hours to do homework for his Social and Personality Development class. He arrived early on Sunday morning, put his laundry in a pile in front of the washing machine, and then slipped into the futon next to the silent man.

Mitobe rolled over, noticed he wasn't alone, and rolled his eyes at the invader. He got up to actually _start_ the laundry, sorting the darks and whites, because Imayoshi claimed that he was colorblind and couldn't tell the difference.

 _Colorblind my ass,_ he thought on this particular morning, _but he's only lazy in the simple things I can help with. Studying for his master's degree, basketball, an internship… this is the least I can do to support him. Especially, after all he's done for me._

After he got the laundry going, Mitobe started the coffee pot he'd set up the night before. It was a dark, bitter blend, Imayoshi's favorite, and one that wasn't available in Tokyo. The bread he'd made last night, cinnamon, was on the counter, one piece missing. _You jerk, that was for our breakfast,_ he thought, chuckling. After everything was prepared, he walked up the stairs and gently shook Imayoshi's shoulder until one silver-gray eye peeked opened.

"What, Rin?" Imayoshi slurred.

 _Breakfast, Sho, same as always._

* * *

After breakfast, Imayoshi took a textbook out back and, between paragraphs, watched Mitobe hang out the laundry. He wasn't getting much done, but he still had a nearly four-hour trip back to Tokyo tonight. He groaned and toss the book down.

Mitobe looked over the clothing line at Imayoshi. _Are you ok?_

"I'm fine, Rin, don't'cha worry about little ol' me. I'm just thinkin' about a paper I have ta write this week. I wish I had your talent for the written word. That was a mighty fine article you wrote for Mainichi Shimbun." He whistled. "Two column-inches! That's pretty impressive for your first freelance story for 'em. Though, I wish ya'd warned me it was comin' out. In Tokyo, I couldn't find a copy for my Point Guard Poker Player scrapbook and had ta settle for readin' it online."

Mitobe hid his flushed face behind a pair of shorts. He took the laundry basket back into the house and came back with a copy of the newspaper. He handed it to Imayoshi.

 _I saved you one; I've always got your back, Sho._

"I shouldn'ta doubted ya, Rin. You've always got my back," Imayoshi said, smiling. He stretched out in the grass and re-read the article.

* * *

Mitobe grabbed a beer and joined Imyoshi outside. _It's too nice a day to stay indoors, even if we can smell the horses at the track down the road… no wonder this place was so cheap._ He pulled out his phone and reviewed the article he was working on for the Monday night publication deadline. _Sounds like they're exercising them a little early today,_ he thought as he heard hoofbeats approach, then recede into the distance. _Even on Sundays they never stop running… just like me, just like him. There's always too much to do and not enough time, especially when Sho's in town._ Imayoshi flipped between his notebook and the tablet, trying to find some elusive answer, his eyes widening a sliver more as his frustration grew. Tiny creases appeared at the corner of his eyes. _You're going to give yourself wrinkles…_

"Quit starin' at me. You're makin' me nervous, Rin, and hand over that beer, this class is gonna make me old before my time," he demanded, holding his hand out. Mitobe smiled and handed Imayoshi the bottle.

* * *

As he went through the work, Mitobe's eyelids grew heavy, and even with the coffee that was sitting pleasantly in his stomach, he yawned. Imayoshi shifted his notebook, balancing it on one knee, so he could scribble notes while pulling Mitobe against his shoulder as the man fought to keep his eyes open.

 _You'll be gone tonight; I can sleep when you leave._

"Don't fight it, Rin, if you're tired, you're tired. You let me sleep in this morning."

 _But I woke you up as soon as I —_

"No, ya didn't. It never takes ya two hours ta do the chores; don't think ya'll get away with lying ta me. I was tired, ya let me sleep; now I'll return the favor. My shoulder is a poor pillow, but it's all yours."

* * *

Mitobe packed up all the small delights he'd prepared on Saturday — the rest of the bread and a box full of homemade mochi — and zipped Imayoshi's bookbag closed.

 _Do you have to go so soon? You just got here._ He knew it sounded weak and needy in his own head, but it would be worse when Imayoshi saw it in his eyes, so he turned back to the clean laundry, slipping a fresh dryer sheet in among the folded towels, and then packed it into the duffle bag he'd aired out all afternoon along with the clothing.

"You're having dinner tomorrow night with my family?" Imayoshi asked as he searched through the front pocket of his backpack.

Mitobe nodded not turning around.

"Good, can you give this to my Dad? He asked me to get a National Team hat for him."

In the simple, repetitive motions of packing the bag, he was able to ignore the loneliness he knew he'd feel as soon as Imayoshi was gone again. He turned and took the hat, but not before Imayoshi's shrewd eyes saw the truth.

"I don't know why you moved out of my parents house, Rin. You're just not suited ta livin' on your own and you know it."

 _Because I wanted to try it, because I thought you'd move home after graduating college._

"Three more months and I'll be done with the internship and then'll be ready to come home and hopefully get a job. Don't be goin' and gettin' a roommate before then, Rin, 'cause I'll need a place to stay."

 _Three more months is nothing_ , he tells himself. _I've already waited three years._

Imayoshi shouldered his backpack and checked his pockets — wallet, phone, and keys — he had everything except his laundry, which Mitobe handed over as the taxi honked at the curb.

"I'll text ya when I get back ta the dorms."

And it ended like every other weekend... "I'll see ya next Sunday, Rin," Imayoshi said, leaning in. He placed a quick kiss on Mitobe's lips and then headed out to meet the taxi.


End file.
